The Red
by befoulmetalroosa
Summary: Watch what happens when the Savior of the Wizarding World turns on the very people he's supposed to save.


**The Red**

"Harry's really weird, isn't he?" The question, overheard in the library, had the raven's attention immediately. He was sitting at a table behind the stacks, and the people he was listening to were just on the other side. He sat at this table every time he was in here, avoiding the stares and the whispers as much as he could.

"Well, yeah," another voice answered, and Harry recognized it as Ron's. His eyes closed in pain as they continued to talk. "He doesn't talk much, and he doesn't seem to be interested in the important things, like Quidditch. And do you see the way he flinches when someone moves, or when someone talks too loud? What a freak."

_Freak._

_Useless freak._

_Waste of space._

_Worthless, good for nothing._

_**FREAK!  
**_

* * *

_They say 'Freak'_

_When you're singled out_

_The red_

_Well, it filters through  
_

* * *

"Potter's such a freak…"

"So weird…"

"…don't understand how anyone could think he's so powerful…"

"…his eyes…."

"…that hair. Hasn't he ever heard of a _comb_?"

He could feel the pressure building. All the whispering and staring was getting to him. He didn't know his own friends had felt that way about him. But then, he recalled, at various times, when they actively avoided being touched by him, as if he were contagious or something. Ravenclaws would snicker as he passed. Hufflepuffs would actually _sneer_ at him. And the Gryffindors…His own house treated him like a redheaded stepchild. The _Daily Prophet_ added its own pressure, with Rita Skeeter printing anything even remotely involving the Chosen One. The Chosen Freak.

Draco stood back, watching as the pressure built and built within Potter. He knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened. When that time came, he wanted to be as far away from Hogwarts as it was possible to get. He turned to his friends, and saw the same knowledge reflecting from their eyes.

* * *

_Potter._ The voice in his head, which, until fifth year had been relatively silent, whispered through his head almost constantly now. _You don't need them. You can stand with me. You would be welcome here. You would be amongst friends here. _Harry hung his head, tears falling unchecked as he hid in the Astronomy tower. He had gotten sick of the stares and the whispering and the laughing and the pointing, as if he had a tail or horns or something.

_Something's going to break soon, and I don't know if I'll be able to stop it.  
_

* * *

_This change_

_He won't contain_

_Slip away_

_To clear your mind  
_

* * *

"Harry, my boy, how are things going?" Dumbledore looked closely at the boy before him, noting the haggard appearance, the dark circles under dull emerald eyes. "You don't look well. Is everything all right?" The concern in the headmaster's voice was genuine, but it was too little, too late. Years of abuse from the Dursleys, followed by the adulation/revulsion of the wizarding world, were taking their toll on the young man. The only comfort he received these days was from the link he had with Voldemort.

"Everything's fine, sir," he answered in a dull, dead voice. Professor Snape, who had brought Harry to the headmaster's office after noticing the boy's declining health, glared at the back of Potter's head.

"Everything is not _fine_, Potter," the Potions Master snarled behind him. The sudden bark of his voice didn't get so much as a flinch from the boy, and the headmaster's eyes narrowed further.

"Harry, look at me." Deadened green eyes rose to meet the headmaster's, and the old man gently delved into the raven's thoughts, only to be forcefully shoved out a moment later. He jerked back in his chair, staring at the emeralds that no longer sparkled with life. He looked at Severus, worry in his blue eyes, and nodded imperceptibly. Severus stepped forward and gently pulled the unresisting raven from the chair.

"You will wait for me at the bottom of the stairs, Potter," he said with more gentleness than he'd ever used before. Nodding, the boy left the room, riding the stairs to the bottom before stepping out and leaning against the wall next to the door. He slid down the wall, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them and his head on them.

"Have you been working on Occlumency with him?" Albus asked, already knowing the answer.

"No, Headmaster, I haven't."

"Well, he just threw me out of his mind with no effort whatsoever. I fear that perhaps Voldemort may have a stronger hold on Harry's mind than we first suspected. See if you can get him to talk to you."

"I've done nothing but belittle and humiliate that boy since he walked through the doors, Albus. What makes you think he'd _ever_ confide in me?"

"Because he knows that you've saved his life numerous times, in spite of your hatred for his father. Perhaps this, Severus, will show you more than anything else that Harry is _not _James. We can't lose him to the Dark. We just can't…"

When the Potions Master reached the bottom of the stairs, he stood, looking at the hunched figure on the floor, thinking about the headmaster's words. He had noticed that, through the years, Potter's friends had abandoned him more often than not, and only came back to reap the rewards of second-hand glory when something spectacular happened to the boy. He had stood back in the shadows, listening as three-fourths of the school talked about the boy; laughing at him, mocking him, humiliating him. He couldn't help but wonder if the fools realized that Potter was the only thing standing between them and a very messy death. He walked over to the other side of the boy, sitting down against the wall with his knees up, and nudged the teen to get his attention. Harry looked into ebon eyes, surprised to see the dour man sitting on the floor next to him, looking at him like he _mattered._

"You want to go somewhere and talk?" Severus asked gently, genuine concern in his eyes. Harry nodded mutely, eyes swimming with tears as he stood from the floor. He offered a hand to the professor, pulling gently to help him to his feet. They walked toward the stairs leading down to the entrance hall, and Severus looped an arm around the teen, pulling him close. Sniffling was heard as Harry fought hard not to cry until they were somewhere private. In a very short time, he found himself in the Potions Master's rooms, where he was gently pushed down onto a sofa, in front of a roaring fire. Severus sat next to the boy, and the dam burst. Holding him gently and rocking, he murmured reassurances to the raven as the boy cried out his pain.

* * *

_Potter. Severus is still my servant. He holds no loyalty for the old man. I told him to do what he could to help you. I don't want to see or feel you so broken, so hurt. You have friends here, if you choose to side with me. I will keep you safe and protected. Please trust me._

In spite of the offer of help and companionship, Harry avoided Snape after his initial breakdown. Talking about it served no purpose; the talk and laughter and ridicule continued, unabated. The professors seemed helpless to stop the students from treating him so badly, and the pressure mounted and mounted. Draco had tried a couple of times, encouraged by his godfather, to engage the raven. Harry looked at him, and a faint spark of life glimmered in those emerald eyes, before it died again. Draco took it as a sign, that Harry wouldn't hurt him or his Slytherins, and stood back, waiting for the fireworks. He didn't have much longer to wait.

* * *

The Great Hall was full. It was the feast before everyone left for their Yule holidays, and every student and teacher was there, enjoying the camaraderie and excitement for the holidays. The only person missing was Harry Potter; no one but the Slytherins noticed, however. That seemed to be the way of things. So it was a complete surprise when the Great Hall doors slammed opened, and an enraged raven stood at the entrance. His wild hair blew as if in a turbulent wind, and his emerald eyes sparkled with an uncontained fury. His wand went up, and he pointed it above the stunned students. He hissed out a spell in parseltongue, and the entire student body, as well as the professors, were frozen in their seats. His burning emerald eyes turned toward the Slytherin table, and he stalked toward them. Many of them started to shake and tremble, fear very apparent on their usually blank faces, but Draco looked calm and collected. The raven reached the end of their table, lifted his wand, and hissed out another parseltongue spell. The Slytherins suddenly found themselves free, and they rose from the table, looking at Harry with respect and awe.

He walked up to the teacher's table, climbing on the dais and standing behind the podium. Severus was released, and he went to his students, instructing them quietly to stand against a far wall. The Great Hall doors had slammed closed behind the raven, ensuring that no one would escape. Harry looked out at the sea of faces staring at him, and he smiled.

* * *

_When asked_

_What made it show_

_(What made it show)_

_The truth_

_He gives into most  
_

* * *

"Why, Harry?" Hermione asked softly. Bodies littered the floor of the Great Hall as Harry went through, firing off curses, hexes, and spells that sapped students of their lives. At each student, he sneered in his or her terrified face, spitting back all the vile things that that student had said about him. He had gone through Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. He was now working his way through Gryffindor, and only a few students were left. The teachers were forced to watch as their savior wiped out nearly the entire student body of Hogwarts. McGonagall had tears running freely down her face, and the headmaster looked on the destruction broken-heartedly, mourning the loss of innocent lives.

"Why?" he snarled in her face, making her flinch. Ron, Neville, Ginny, and she were all that were left of Gryffindor. "Because you were supposed to be my _friends_. Because you were supposed to _love_ me. Not call me a freak, or a weirdo. Not make fun of me, and laugh at me, and humiliate me." The Gryffindors flinched; they hadn't realized that they had been heard.

"C'mon, mate," Ron blustered, trying to _fix_ this somehow. "Surely the Slytherins said worse things to you than we did. They're still alive." Draco walked up beside Harry, smiling softly at the trapped Gryffindors.

"That's where you're wrong, Weasley," he said softly. "My Slytherins and I _respect_ Potter. We have never treated him the way that all of you have. We've _listened_ to the vitriol that the entire school hurled at him; both to his face and behind his back. We understand self-preservation, and we know not to prod an angry lion." Smirking, he walked back to his classmates, Harry's laughter following him.

"Harry," Ginny tried, "you can't do this. You and I are supposed to be married after I finish school. You love us; you can't just kill us."

"I don't love any of you," he said, his voice dead. "I don't even _know_ you. All I know of you are the taunts, the humiliations, the mocking laughter." He stepped back, casting a cutting hex at the four of them all at once, watching as the blood ran from their severed throats. He then turned to the teacher's table, a smirk on his face.

"All of you knew what was going on. All of you stood back and watched as I was continuously harassed, and embarrassed, and treated like shit."

"We were told to," McGonagall said, trying to reason with the boy. "Albus told us that the adversity would make you stronger, more able to defeat the Dark Lord." Harry looked into the headmaster's blue eyes, the twinkle long dead.

"Well, old man, I guess you were wrong. The adversity only made me bitter. Did it not ever occur to you; to any of you, that all I wanted was for someone to love me? To show me compassion, kindness. I got enough abuse when I went home every summer. What made you think I deserved _more_ when I came to school?" Without waiting for an answer, he opened the Great Hall doors, gesturing for the Slytherins and their Head of House to leave. At the doors, he raised his wand again, casting fiendfyre on the bodies before gently closing the doors.

* * *

They stood outside the gates, watching as the flames engulfed the entire castle. Nothing could withstand the fiendfyre, and Hogwarts was no different. Harry felt someone approach behind him, and he turned to see Voldemort standing behind him, a smile on his face as he watched the school burn. It would burn for hours, and nothing would stop the flames until every brick, every bit of mortar was eaten.

"Come," the thin, snake-like man said, putting an arm around Harry's waist, "time to go home."

* * *

_So lay down_

_The threat is real_

_When his sight_

_Goes red again_

_Seeing red again_

_Seeing red again_

_Seeing red again_

_Seeing red again_

_They say 'Freak'_

_When you're singled out_

_The red_

_It filters through_


End file.
